


Inevitable

by tdwk



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Alpha Erik Killmonger, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Biting, Forced Bonding, Impregnation, Incest, M/M, Omega T'Challa (Marvel), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior, Rape/Non-con Elements, i have sinned (again) but i only regretti spaghetti one pasta noodle, if yall dont like this then pls click away and find something yall do like, this is pure smut with a dose of unresolved angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-08-24 14:19:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16641831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tdwk/pseuds/tdwk
Summary: As the closest living blood alpha, Erik has breeding rights to T'Challa, who has escaped in the aftermath of his father's death.- Erik has an unhealthy fixation he thinks is love towards T'Challa. T'Challa wants to be king, and not an omega controlled by his nature.





	Inevitable

Erik ended his call to Helmut, satisfied the partnership had worked out well for the both of them. Now the late king of Wakanda was dead and T'Challa had become a rogue omega while on American soil. There was nothing stopping Erik from hunting down and claiming T'Challa as the closest living blood alpha. Erik knew he had breeding rights to T'Challa, regardless of the omega being willing or not. He'd waited long enough to kill the alpha who had murdered his father in cold blood, and to take that alpha's son as spoils, as his mate.

Erik had heard T'Challa's anguished cry when he'd found his dying father, and knew that his omega was smart. He would run and he would hide, because no one knew better than an omega heir apparent who had lived his whole life knowing that once his alpha father died, only his wits could save him from a forced bond.

Erik was happy to let T'Challa go for the time being. He went back to his crappy motel room, threw his gear into the trunk of his car, and followed the alluring scent trail of his omega.

After a few days of driving down empty dirt roads and not seeing even a single adventurous hitchhiker flagging down passing cars, T'Challa's scent disappeared into the skyscraper labyrinth of a city. Erik stopped in front of a 24-hour chemist, the neon welcome sign flickering every so often illuminating used needles and the broken glass of liquor bottles. T'Challa's scent started to taper off here. He must've bought some suppressants thinking it would dampen his scent. Erik had started smelling T'Challa's heat about a day ago. Nothing, not even a cutting-edge chemical cocktail, was going to halt a rogue omega's heat that had been triggered by an alpha on the hunt.

T'Challa's faded scent, and his paper trail, led to a decent hotel that sat inconspicuously between a department store and some parklands. It was time, Erik thought, T'Challa might not know it but his instincts had decided that the hunt would end here in Erik's triumph.

The doorman took one glance at his piercing eyes and oppressive aura and let him in without a word. Erik strode to the front desk, got the keycard to T'Challa's room and took the stairs up.

Breathing evenly and with an attractive grin on his face, Erik slipped his calling card laced with his scent under the door. After only a few moments, the door opens slowly and T'Challa is engulfed in Erik's scent, the alpha's arms catching him as his legs go weak and T'Challa's grip on the doorknob goes slack.

"Oh goddess, Erik it's you. How did you find me? It can't be you. We're cousins, we share blood. No, no, no. I need you to leave. Now." T'Challa involuntarily took a deep breath, Erik's scent making his muscles relax one by one like a natural painkiller.

Erik looked down at T'Challa who was still in his arms, "Hey baby coz, how's it going? It's been years and you've grown more beautiful since I last saw you. Oh, and I won't be going anywhere. Your alpha can only ever be me."

T'Challa struggled like a newborn kitten, pushing against Erik's chest to no avail. He ignored the latter half of what Erik had said, hoping he was wrong, "No. Please Erik, be reasonable. I need you to leave so I can get through the rest of this stupid heat and go home to Wakanda. I have to inherit the throne. It's my duty."

"Your duty is to me, your alpha. Now and for the rest of our lives." Erik picked up T'Challa who had gone pretty much boneless and limp, a temporary side effect of first contact. The instinctive tug between an omega in the throes of heat and the alpha hunting him is a biological imperative written into the very strands of their DNA. There was nothing manmade or naturally occuring that countered it fully. 

T'Challa felt the heat that had lit his blood with phantom flames and filled his thoughts with mindless lust for an alpha, rush through his flesh to pool at his abdomen. Hot slick trickled down his thighs, heightening his own scent as he buried his nose into Erik's throat and nipped him insistently. T'Challa was horrified at what he, no, what his instincts were making him do. 

Erik stroked his back comfortingly, placing him onto the bed with utmost care. T'Challa willed his body to move, to get away from Erik, and the bed. He needed to run far far away from both before anything more happened.

Instead of lunging for the door and dashing out at a sprint, T'Challa leaned into Erik's touch, silently wanting more. T'Challa's voice trembled in fear as he spoke, "What did you do to me? Please make it stop. Erik, please."

"It's just your body responding to mine. An omega calls to an alpha during heat. I can't stop it any more than you can." 

Erik leaned over and traced the dark skin exposed by T'Challa's half-opened bathrobe, fascinated by how smooth and soft it was.

"But you can't want this. We're cousins, Erik. This is taboo. I'm begging you to stop. Please, if you feel anything for me."

"I love you T'Challa, you are my mate. Destined to be since you were born. There won't be no taboo after we're mates."

T'Challa saw the dark possessiveness in Erik's clear eyes. With a chill, T'Challa realised he was the only one. Erik seemed in control of his actions, of his own body.

"You lied to me. You can stop this," T'Challa spat angrily. This was the older cousin who always had a smile and a sweet for him when he'd visited. Betrayal this blatant hurt.

"I can't stop your heat, T'Challa. Right now, nothing can. So I'm gonna fuck you through it." 

There wasn't a single waver of doubt in Erik's tone. Hearing this, T'Challa felt a clawing panic rise and the weight of dread in his chest.

"Erik, Erik you have to listen to me. We're not animals. You can choose to not do this." 

T'Challa had talked down an insane alpha from killing a bloody path to his injured mate. It was a near thing but he had done it. Now he just needed to get Erik to see his side of things.

"I know. But I chose you. I knew the moment you called out my name you'd be mine."

Done talking, Erik yanked off his t-shirt with a tug and rounded on T'Challa, kneeling on the bed. The sight of Erik's scarred and muscled upper body was a shock to T'Challa. Some scars were from bullets ripping through flesh, others were brutal cuts that had sank in deep, but T'Challa didn't find them ugly. In fact, it made him hunger more. This alpha was strong, he would protect and provide for his omega. For T'Challa.

Erik's hand slipped underneath T'Challa's robe, rough gun calluses brushing his chest, shoulders, back, pushing the robe off T'Challa's shoulders. Chest bared to Erik's blazing gaze, T'Challa stilled, anticipating what was to come half of him in trepidation and the other in excitement.

"You know T'Challa, I killed T'Chaka so that I could have you," Erik said conversationally, "He killed my daddy so I guess it's karma too. But now they can't tear us apart."

"So it was you." Grief and frustration welled up from within T'Challa, it felt like his weary heart had been crushed again. T'Challa had known that Erik had the most to gain from T'Chaka's death. But T'Challa had wanted to believe in Erik. Even when everyone around him had started pointing fingers.

Erik grabbed T'Challa's shoulders, pushing him onto the bed to lie flat on his back. T'Challa's pliant body complied without any resistance. His thighs spread, Erik surging forward to settle between his legs. T'Challa was a beautifully laid out banquet of lavish sumptuousness and Erik gazed down like a starved monster.

Erik's hand slid under T'Challa's ass, slick dripping down onto it. He put his slicked fingers into his mouth, tasting the heady flavour of T'Challa. "You taste sweet." 

Three words and yet T'Challa felt his world fracture, shatter, and the pieces melt into a bottomless pool that submerged him. 

His alpha said he tasted sweet. He'd pleased his alpha. He wanted his alpha to want more, to taste more. He wanted to be his omega. "Alpha," T'Challa whispered, he wanted more so bad.

Hands gripping T'Challa's thighs, Erik hovered his lips over the slicked and tense thigh muscle. Without warning he started to bite and suck, marking T'Challa as his own. T'Challa's fingers tangled into his dreadlocks, telling him yes and more while something in T'Challa refused to let himself plead like that out loud. Erik finished with a satisfying lick of the sweet slick.

Looking over the dark bruises faint against T'Challa's dark skin, Erik felt his need to possess T'Challa dampen a little. He owned every single inch of this omega, broken or whole.

To Erik, T'Challa seems to have finally succumbed to the heat, powerless against Erik's advances and obedient to his every wish.

Erik held out his fingers in front of T'Challa. "Suck it."

T'Challa eagerly took the fingers into his mouth, first tentatively licking them, cautious and shy. Then he started sucking and nipping. He was impatient and he knew his alpha was teasing him, playing around with him. What had he done?

"Enough," Erik pulled out his fingers with a pop, T'Challa was reluctant to let go. 

Unfazed, T'Challa placed his hand on his flat abdomen and asked evenly, "Will you fuck me?" He wanted to be filled, held by his alpha and be blessed with a child.

Erik paused, surprised by the vulgar honesty. It was pure T'Challa but under normal circumstances T'Challa would never offer sex so audaciously. He had hoped he could've bonded T'Challa while T'Challa was lucid but perhaps the omega had locked himself away from him.

Shrugging off his thoughts, Erik hoisted T'Challa's legs over his shoulders. His cock entered T'Challa in a single smooth thrust, the warmth and tightness feeling so perfect. Unprepared for the sudden intrusion, T'Challa cried out Erik's name in surprise, "Slower. It hurts," soft, a plead for kindness.

And then Erik saw a flash of rage ignite in those wet brown eyes. Maybe the heat hadn't completely taken over T'Challa. Erik wanted to see the moment when T'Challa realised they were irrevocably bonded and mated. He slid out slow and easy before snapping his hips and driving back in, T'Challa writhed underneath him, a death grip on the sheets.

"I said it hurts, Erik. Can't you hear what I'm saying?!" T'Challa ground out threateningly. The pain had cut through the murky water, but he felt waves of pleasure start to lap against him again.

Erik slowed down but continued to fuck T'Challa, cock swelling as he saw hatred colour T'Challa's gaze, "What're you gonna do about it? Bite me?"

On his back and legs hanging off Erik's shoulders, T'Challa flushed. It was humiliating, this position, the stab of pleasure every time Erik thrust into him deep and invasive. He needed to kill Erik if he wanted his life, his freedom back. There was no other way out for an omega who'd been imprinted upon by an alpha.

Tears T'Challa hadn't noticed rolled down his cheeks. Seeing this, Erik mocked, "So you are an omega. Does being fucked by an alpha feel that good?"

"Fuck no, of course it doesn-," T'Challa's voice cut off, Erik leaned forward and bit down hard on his throat as punishment for lying. The bite mark stung, and T'Challa tried to push Erik away but his arms didn't have any strength in them.

"You're mouth ain't as honest as your body," Erik teased, feeling T'Challa tighten involuntarily when he started to lick at his nipples, "But that's fine. Your scent tells me everything." The only time T'Challa had ever swore in front of him was when the omega had looked sober as hell, and then he'd taken one glance at Erik and muttered something under his breath before walking forward and pitching headfirst into his arms. Something had felt indescribably right when he felt T'Challa give himself completely to him. He had let himself want the impossible, what if T'Challa was his.

"You know I can't control my scent," T'Challa said and then paused, voice becoming soothing and meek, "We don't have do this." 

Erik ignored him. He knew T'Challa was trying to do the omega calming thing that most alphas took well to but it wouldn't work on him. Apparently T'Challa had talked down a alpha-raging Captain America after his imprinted mate had been fatally shot. He would never lose control like that, and T'Challa could never make him yield either.

"Erik, please. Stop, for me," those warm brown eyes, a little swollen due to the crying from before, focused on Erik. T'Challa felt his nails leave crescents in his palms. He'd get out of this, pride be damned.

Erik leaned forward, pressing soft lips against T'Challa's eyelids as if he were comforting a distressed lover, "I'm not an unreasonable alpha you have to control, T'Challa." 

"You're crazy if you think I believe you. This," T'Challa waved vaguely at the two of them, "Is rape." Talking was good. Talking meant there could be discussion, maybe he'd be able to convince Erik's twisted mind.

Erik made a thoughtful face, his hips rolling evenly, violating T'Challa at a leisurely pace. For T'Challa, it was a climbing torment of internal wretchedness and small surges of pleasure.

"Rape? But you're an omega and I'm an alpha," Erik said it with a hint of fake surprise in his voice. They both knew what was happening. One of them just wasn't openly acknowledging it. Erik cheshire-cat-grinned down at him, the gold enamel peeking out, "This is called bonding." Another bite that sank into his jugular, almost deep enough to draw blood.

T'Challa felt it in his gut, either he was going to end up raped and forcibly bonded. Or Erik had to die. 

From a young age, Erik had always seemed like a carefree kid who just wanted to play ball and skip class. But T'Challa had known, Erik was tenacious, a tireless predator that doggedly trailed his victim until it tired and gave up. Never in his life would he had guessed he'd end up that victim.

Climax raced through T'Challa's limbs and ripped out of his throat, "No-" Hard pleasure wracked his entire body as a feeling of wrongness, deep affection and crippling dependency took root. The so-called bond between a fated pair that tied omega to alpha. But not always alpha to omega.

Erik came too, a deep growl of T'Challa's name pressed into T'Challa's neck, against the still bleeding and overlapping bites, each deeper than the last. T'Challa, eyes half-closed from exhaustion, made protesting noises when Erik's thick knot shifted too much inside him.

Rolling onto their sides, Erik reached between them, smeared T'Challa's come with his fingers.

T'Challa lifted his eyelids, bothered by the slippery sensation. "It feels gross." 

"I'll clean up after the knot goes down. Sleep now." He tightened his arms around T'Challa, felt the warm weight pressed up against his chest, T'Challa's nose touching his throat. If only they could always be like this.

T'Challa had never felt so humiliated in his life lowering his hips down onto Erik's cock. His mind was scarily clear but his body had surrendered to need and the feeling of emptiness, a fear of being unwanted. As soon as he'd woken up, his body craved Erik like he was his addiction.

Hot tears rolled down T'Challa's cheeks, his lips red from stopping himself from begging. Erik watched, patient and amused.

T'Challa felt the mix of slick and come leak down his thighs, then the feeling of fleeting satisfaction, alpha cock filling him from the inside. 

Erik, who had been enjoying the show, spoke up as if he remembered something, "I was about to clean up but then you woke up and begged for my cock." Because omegas in heat can't go without their alpha and most drowned in the haze of sex and breeding. 

"If I were alpha or beta, you would be executed for this," said T'Challa, the last smoke of resistance fading. But he was omega. Weak, a slave to heat.

"You're an omega, T'Challa. My omega. We're bonded mates now. And you'll have our children." 

Children. T'Challa's heart skipped a couple beats and dropped to his stomach. Panic crawled through his chest, he might already even be pregnant. His first true heat, and with his bonded alpha. 

Erik felt T'Challa freeze, saw his eyes widen in horror and then dull after realising he couldn't escape.

T'Challa locked eyes with Erik, and said quietly, calmly, "We can't have a child. Because I don't love you and I can't no, won't love your child."

Something wrenched apart Erik's heart, tore it into two ragged halves. Why couldn't T'Challa accept him, what would it take for his prince to smile at him again?

"That's okay. I love you enough for the both of us. For all three of us." And Erik was also strong enough to wait for T'Challa.

Erik lifted T'Challa off his lap, pushed T'Challa face first into the pillows, ass facing him. Erik leaned over to brush his lips against the curve of T'Challa's ear, "'l'll fuck you until you get pregnant. And then you won't be able to leave me."

Before T'Challa could say anything back, Erik thrust in all the way to the hilt, balls slapping T'Challa who took a sharp breathe. Not waiting for T'Challa to adjust, Erik fucked his omega with short and fast thrusts, just enough to pound into his sweet spot over and over again. Each thrust teasing T'Challa's back to arch, to take his alpha's cock in deeper. 

Sucking and nipping the sensitive skin at the back of T'Challa's neck, Erik reached climax first, biting down hard around the atlas bone, felt T'Challa tighten around him. 

Sweet pain and ecstasy spread from the back of T'Challa's neck, pushing him over the edge. He almost screamed but buried his face into the pillows, felt Erik pressed heavy against his back. Hot liquid pooled inside of him, plugged by Erik's knot that swelled to stretch him. But instead of pain, he felt a numb throb. And then his consciousness drowned in dark warmth.

The last thing T'Challa thought was that it was too late. He was irrevocably bonded now. Only death could sever him. 

Erik felt T'Challa go limp underneath him. His omega had had a dry orgasm, and had passed out cold. Erik reached down to lay his palm flat against T'Challa's firm stomach, splayed his fingers over where it would soon swell with child. 

He needed to bind T'Challa to him body and soul. It had taken him almost a decade to finally hunt down his prince. He wasn't going to let go now he had his body and half his soul.


End file.
